


tear out all your tenderness

by inkstainedwretch



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Knife Play, Marking, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, like eve does have sex with niko but this is NOT about that, like even for me, sexual surrogacy, strap ons, this is VERY pornographic though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:54:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27220804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkstainedwretch/pseuds/inkstainedwretch
Summary: “I’ve ruined you, haven’t I?” Villanelle’s voice flows between them like smoke. “No one else can do this to you.”(So, how about season 2? You cannot convince me at least some of this didn't happen. Title fromHowlby Florence and the Machine.)
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Niko Polastri, Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 19
Kudos: 245





	tear out all your tenderness

The tip of the knife is needle-sharp, even through the fabric of Eve’s top. She’s probably bleeding, at least a little, and no matter how hard she leans back against the sink, she can’t get away from the pressure of it. Villanelle isn’t going to kill her, that much is obvious now, but she can still hurt her. Badly. She can give Eve exactly what was given to her, and with much more skill.

But god, it is so good to see her, again. In the most fucked up way, it’s good to feel this fear, this tense uncertainty, feel the solid muscle of Villanelle’s arm holding her against the cabinet. It’s a rush like blood returning to a compressed limb.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she sighs.

Villanelle doesn’t move the knife so much as a centimeter, when she leans in to kiss her. It’s confusingly soft, neither of them closing their eyes, and then Villanelle nips sharply at her lower lip, right on the just-healed cut, and Eve jumps. The knife cuts the smallest hole in the thin cotton of her shirt. Villanelle grins wide.

“You actually put it on,” she murmurs. “Can’t blame me for wanting a little payback, yeah? Nothing like what you gave me.”

The knife pushes in, just enough to make Eve _really_ nervous, and then it’s gone. She hears the click of Villanelle closing it again, the shift of fabric when she puts it away. Then, before she can relax completely, Villanelle grabs her by the arms, turns sideways and shoves her up against the door of the fridge, sending a couple of magnets clattering to the floor. She kisses Eve like she means it, hot and insistent, pinning her in place so she couldn’t move if she wanted to.

Some switch flips in the back of Eve’s mind, and she wonders how the _hell_ she managed to live without this, even if it was only for a couple of weeks. Villanelle’s fingers are going to leave bruises on her arms, she can taste pain and copper on her lip, and she has never, _never_ been this turned on before in her life. It’s like rain in the desert, how her whole body is so flushed and heavy with desire.

“Let’s go upstairs,” she says, the second Villanelle lets go to breathe.

“Why?”

Villanelle’s arms let her go, and then her elbows bracket her in, landing hard on either side of her head. There’s fire in her eyes, just this side of manic, and it makes Eve’s knees go weak.

“Why can’t I just have you here?” Villanelle whispers.

Oh, that is tempting. But, Eve knows how to get her on board.

“You’re telling me you don’t want to fuck me in Niko’s bed?” she asks, only a little out of breath.

Villanelle’s jaw actually drops, and then she hauls Eve up by the waist, holding her tightly as she bolts down the hall. Eve can barely get a hold on her before they’re up the stairs and in the bedroom, and then Villanelle shoves her down onto her back hard enough that they bounce. She looks wild, little wisps of hair coming loose around her face, and Eve claws at her, nails catching on the sheer fabric of her dress as she pulls her down. She grips Villanelle’s face in both hands, and they kiss furiously, Villanelle’s thigh coming up hard between her legs.

“I want you,” Eve hisses, pulling the tie from Villanelle’s hair. “ _Fuck,_ I want you.”

She hears the knife click open, and then suddenly the blade tears through her shirt, through the band of her bra, missing her face by an inch. She barely has time to gasp before Villanelle throws the knife aside and rakes her nails down the skin of her chest. She kisses wetly over Eve’s breasts, all tongue and teeth, pulling her close and biting down like she’s trying to eat her alive. God, she’s going to be covered in marks.

She sinks her fingers into Villanelle’s hair and grips it tight, her back lifting up into her, trying to get closer, trying to push against her thigh. The sounds she’s making are high and thready, but all she can hear is Villanelle’s hungry, panting breath. Her nails are digging hard into Eve’s sides, and then one hand reaches over and yanks the nightstand drawer open.

“This better be charged,” she whispers, pulling the vibrator out and turning it on with a click.

Before Eve can ask how she knew that’s where she kept it, Villanelle pushes the head of the wand between her legs, and even through her clothes it’s enough to make her head snap back. She moans out loud, nearly tearing Villanelle’s sleeve in an effort to move her closer, because it’s not enough, it’s _nowhere_ near enough.

“There you go,” Villanelle whispers, gliding the toy slowly up and down, teasing her. “There you go, baby. You want more?”

“ _Please_ ,” she sobs.

“Here,” Villanelle presses the handle into Eve’s palm. “Hold onto this.”

Eve does as she’s told, and Villanelle rips her waistband down, nails scratching at Eve’s hips as she throws her pants to the side. Her underwear, she tears apart with her bare hands, peeling the fabric off because god damn, Eve is soaked.

Villanelle doesn’t waste a second, her fingertips gliding down, sliding past her clit before they slip down between her folds and curl inside. She lets Eve move the toy into place, and then with her eyes fixed on Eve’s face, her arm starts to move slowly back and forth. With her other hand, she holds Eve’s hip in place, firmly enough that she can’t move, she can’t even shake as hard as she wants to, because it’s still not enough.

Even when Villanelle starts to pick up speed, it’s not enough, they’re not close enough, and Eve grabs her shoulder and tugs her down so their foreheads nearly touch.

“ _Harder_ ,” she hisses the words through her teeth.

Villanelle _whines_ , and then she gives Eve exactly what she asked for. Hard, fast, relentless, almost mechanical, Villanelle’s fingers start hammering into her, and the change in speed is so jarring she nearly jumps right off the bed. But, Villanelle holds her down, and she doesn’t let up for a second, and even when Eve’s eyes pinch shut and her head twists to the side, she can feel Villanelle’s eyes watching her, never moving from her face.

She knows she’s not quiet; her throat nearly hurts from the noise she’s making, but all she can really hear is Villanelle’s breath as it washes over the skin of her neck. Slow, heavy, shivering now and then on the exhale, she sounds so _focused_. That’s what this is about, right? That’s what gets to Eve more than anything, is feeling the full force of Villanelle’s attention, all concentrated on her. Like nothing else matters.

With a desperate shout, she feels herself start to lose it, and she hears Villanelle stifle a gasp.

“Yes _…_ ” it’s so soft, Eve isn’t sure if Villanelle even realizes what she’s saying.

Eve’s voice cuts out completely, when it really hits, and the slick sound of Villanelle’s hand gets drowned out by her pulse pounding in her ears. There’s this warm, heavy rush of feeling that grips her tightly, makes her squeeze hard on Villanelle’s fingers again, again, again, and when her eyes fly open at last, she finds she’s forgotten how to breathe.

Villanelle has let go of her hip, and holding herself up with one arm, she brings her other hand up to her mouth. Her tongue drags over the gleaming trails on her palm, on her wrist, and another one of those soft, whining noises slips out, and Eve finally notices the feeling of cool liquid rolling down the back of her thigh. 

“Holy shit,” she props herself up, trying to look down, “did I just…”

“Mm-hm,” Villanelle nods, sucking hard on her fingers, then smiling at her. “You’ve never done that before, have you?”

“Not with someone else,” she sighs heavily. “Should’ve grabbed a towel.”

Villanelle laughs, rolling up her sleeve.

“How about I do that again?”

“Oh, hell yes,” Eve reaches up and pulls her in by the hair, tasting herself on Villanelle’s tongue as she feels those long, strong fingers push back into her.

It’s not as intense this time, a slow build of movement that makes Eve groan against her lips, Villanelle drawing the pleasure out of her until she bursts with it, and then starting all over again. Eve actually loses count, after the third time, and soon enough the sheets are probably ruined, and she doesn’t care. When she just _can’t_ anymore, she clicks the toy off and tries to catch her breath. Villanelle lets her go, but the way she looks down at Eve, it’s like she could do this all day.

Eve’s fingers crack a little, when she sets the vibrator down, and then she slides her hand up Villanelle’s thigh.

“I want to taste you,” she wants to sound confident, smooth and effortless like Villanelle, but she’s so out of breath, it almost sounds like she’s begging.

For less than half a second, Villanelle actually looks surprised, and Eve tucks that away in her memory for later. Then, she’s back to being all sharp smiles and teasing laughter, hiking up her skirt even further so Eve can see her underwear is gone, if she was ever wearing any.

“You sure you remember how?” Villanelle cocks an eyebrow at her, and Eve takes her by both hips and pulls her forward.

Villanelle is so stupidly graceful, even now, so sure of herself when she moves to straddle Eve’s face. One hand on the headboard, the other holding up her dress, she settles down right as Eve leans up to meet her. The taste of her, the smell of her, salt and sweat invading Eve’s mouth, it’s like a drug. The first time she did this, it was too new and exciting for her to get nervous about it, too much of a rush to overthink.

So, she remembers. She remembers how to lap at her, flick her tongue and drag it up the underside of Villanelle’s clit, seal her whole mouth around her and suck. She gets her hands around the mass of black fabric so Villanelle can grab onto her hair, moves along with her when she starts to grind down.

She never sees Villanelle look this relaxed, unless they’re alone, unless Eve is unwinding her like this. Something cold and steely dissolves out of her expression, when she lets herself go, and it’s something Eve is confident no one else has ever seen, and it makes her heart stutter in her chest. She’d do anything, to see Villanelle like this, nothing more or less than a woman in passion. Anything.

Villanelle bites her lip, her head falls forward a little, and her fingers tighten in Eve’s hair.

“Oh my god,” she pants, “oh my god, Eve, don’t stop…”

Eve’s answering moan is louder than she expects, and when she feels Villanelle start shaking, pulsing under her tongue, she gets even louder. It’s Villanelle that’s quiet, her face twisted up, hips jerking forward, not even breathing until she lets go of Eve’s hair with a shout. She falls backward and rolls off of Eve, landing upside-down on the bed beside her. For a minute or two, they just stay like that. Would it be so bad, if they just fell asleep together? Of course it would, but she still wants to.

Villanelle recovers first, rolling out of bed and tugging her skirt down as she walks around to where Eve is still lying exhausted. She leans down and kisses her sweetly, just once.

“See you at work, sweetheart,” she murmurs, and then she’s off, her shoes clacking on the stairs.

Eve should probably feel a lot worse than she does.

(Later, in the same bed, with different sheets, Niko’s hand pushes her face down into the mattress, and she works her clit furiously with one hand while he rails her from behind. She turns her head to breathe and sees Villanelle on the other side of the window, one hand clamped over her mouth, shivering just a little, looking _straight at her._

She clamps her teeth down on her lip to keep from saying it, and she comes so fucking hard.)

\--

The night before they leave for Rome, they’re downstairs in Villanelle’s room. Eve swirls a glass of red wine and watches her pack, and she has enough sense not to comment on the clothes she’s picked out. Villanelle times it just right, waits for Eve to bring the glass to her lips again before she says it.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” she tosses the words over one shoulder.

Eve swallows, furrows her brows.

“For what?”

Villanelle gives her a _look_ , unable to keep from smiling.

“You think he ever would’ve gotten that idea without me?”

Eve rolls her eyes, but only a little. Villanelle gets impatient, reaching for the box on the back shelf of her closet.

“Can I show you something?” she asks. “I think you’ll like it.”

“You sure about that?” Eve’s voice is flat, but she’s leaning forward, which means Villanelle has already won.

She lifts the lid off the box and pulls out her newest amusement, tossing it in one hand so it flips in the air. Eve’s eyes go wider than she’s ever seen them, traveling up the length of the silicone shaft, black and sleek, to the little bulb at the end that hooks up into a handle. Villanelle watches her go from shock to curiosity, and she gives the toy a squeeze so Eve can see how pliable the material is, how silky its finish feels to the touch.

“Pretty sure,” she licks her lips, and with her other hand she opens a drawer and pulls out her favorite harness.

Eve starts undressing without a word, her eyes fixed on Villanelle as she throws her robe off and takes the bottle of lube out of the drawer, as well. It’s cute, how transfixed she is, watching Villanelle fasten the toy in and click the bottle open. Her hands slow to a complete stop when Villanelle slicks up the bulbed end, and by the time she slides it in and tightens the straps, her jaw is hanging open. Villanelle grins at her.

“Does he _ever_ let you climb on top?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow at her.

Eve starts, apparently realizing she’s only halfway out of her shirt.

“Maybe once or twice,” she mutters, making quick work of the rest of it.

“Hmm,” Villanelle wraps a slippery hand around the shaft of the toy, getting it ready for her, enjoying the feeling of it shifting inside her, and maybe showing off a little. “I swear to god, you’re wasted on him.”

Eve doesn’t comment, not that Villanelle expected her to, and when she walks over, naked and perfect, Villanelle can’t help but lean in and kiss her.

“Ride me,” she whispers.

Eve shoves her down onto the bed, climbs up onto her, and with that gorgeous dark hair hanging down above her, Villanelle falls a little more in love. Eve sinks down with a low sound of satisfaction, muffled by her teeth pinching at the corner of her lip, so smoothly you’d think she did this all the time. A moment to breathe, to settle, and Villanelle’s hands come up to her hips right as she starts to move.

Villanelle gasps, thankful she’d had enough sense to take this thing for a test run with the women from the gyro place. It startled her a little, when that pretty brunette did this, albeit with less coordination. The base of it nestled inside her only moves a little, but it’s _good_ , it’s this gorgeous pressure that makes her want to shout.

The sight of Eve on top of her…she’s had dreams about this. She licks the pad of her thumb and starts to stroke the stem of Eve’s clit, and that gets her a wicked smile and a hand on top of her own, where she’s holding onto Eve’s other hip. She moves with confidence, with a kind of ease and playfulness that was _not_ there the first time they had sex. That was a frantic, desperate affair, enjoyable but uncertain.

There’s also the gleam in her eye, the half-smile that tells Villanelle she likes the attention, likes to put on a show. _Fuck_ , this woman. This unbelievable woman, who chased her down, and kissed her raw, and shoved a knife into her stomach, and then apologized. The way her head falls sideways now, her hair halfway in her face, the way she grinds down onto her and licks her lips, Villanelle will _never_ be able to get enough.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Eve laughs just a little. “This feels so fucking good.”

“I told you.” She can’t keep from smiling. Her heart feels like it might burst. It’s terrifying, and it’s wonderful.

She pinches Eve’s thigh with her nails, and when Eve starts to speed up, she presses a little harder on her clit.

“Oh, that’s it,” Eve’s eyes slide shut. “Don’t stop…”

As though she’d even think about it. Eve’s whole body curls forward, one hand falling onto Villanelle’s chest to keep her upright, and her hips jerk forward again, and again, and Villanelle can _feel_ it. It’s a slow burn, almost gentle, Eve slowing down one breath at a time, until at last she gives a shivering exhale, and goes still. Villanelle lets her go, burning with need but willing to wait. Eve always makes her burn so hot; she can be patient.

Eve lifts up, then rolls onto her side, taking Villanelle by the shoulder so they face each other.

“I love the way you look at me,” she sighs, and there’s just enough pause between words that Villanelle knows she almost said something else.

The way Eve moves is hesitant now, that familiar panic when she wants to do something, but everyone has always told her she shouldn’t. There’s a question in her eyes, something she wants, and it’s intriguing enough that Villanelle forgets her own desire, for a moment. That’s always how it goes, her desire to give Eve all those things she doesn’t dare ask for outstripping whatever her body has in mind.

“Tell me what you want,” she says.

Eve’s tongue darts out across her lip, tucked between her teeth.

“Will you…” she starts, then trails off.

Villanelle brings both hands up to her face.

“Tell me,” she says again.

“Hold me down,” Eve whispers. “Like he did, it’s all I can think about, just fucking…”

She lunges forward and kisses Villanelle like she needs it to breathe.

“I want you to leave marks on me, again,” she sounds so breathless, what the hell is Villanelle supposed to do, say no?

In the corner of her eye, she sees her vanity mirror, and she gets an idea.

“Turn over.”

Eve does, and in one fluid movement Villanelle pulls them both up, shifting a little so she can see them both reflected in the glass. It takes a second for Eve’s eyes to focus, but then her face flushes dark when she understands. Villanelle holds her up with one arm, nuzzling her face into the soft darkness of her hair, smelling sweat and perfume. God, it _still_ turns her on, when she smells that perfume on Eve’s skin.

It’s a little effort to keep her balance, while she draws Eve’s hips back and settles inside her again, but not much. She starts slow, holding Eve tightly, digging her nails into one hip while the other hand creeps up toward her throat. It’s instantaneous, how Eve leans into her, how her whole body goes slack and pliable. There’s desire, and then there’s _this_.

“I’ve ruined you, haven’t I?” Villanelle’s voice flows between them like smoke. “No one else can do this to you.”

Eve shivers, trying to bend down reflexively, but Villanelle keeps her upright. She moves Eve’s hair to the side and leans over her shoulder, nipping at her earlobe.

“Look at me, Eve,” she purrs, and Eve’s eyes meet hers in the mirror. “Isn’t this what you wanted? You couldn’t take your eyes off me.”

Eve moans, and Villanelle takes hold of her neck, more to hold onto her than to actually choke her. She’s enjoying the sound of her panting a little too much for that. She fucks her harder, watching the way Eve’s eyes flutter closed, the way she takes hold of Villanelle’s arm to keep steady. Under the harness, she’s so fucking wet, absolutely mad with the need to slip a hand underneath and get herself off, but that comes later. Right now, Eve is starting to make those soft little keening noises that she only makes for Villanelle. Only when she _really_ gets into it.

Eve says something Villanelle can’t hear, so she loosens her grip a little.

“Hm?” she tries to sound aloof, and fails miserably.

“Fuck me,” Eve whimpers. “ _Fuck me, Villanelle_.”

Okay, that gets to her.

With a snarl, she shoves Eve down and sinks her teeth into her shoulder. Her hips snap down into her, hard and fast, and she’s burning with the need to mark her, to _claim_ her. Her nails rake down Eve’s sides, over her stomach, she bites every inch of skin she can get to, and all she can hear is the harsh drag of her own breath and Eve gasping _yes,_ _oh fuck yes_.

She has the sense to move one hand inward, eventually, rubbing circles above Eve’s clit again, mirroring what she watched Eve do herself, when it was Niko. Worthless man. She’s the one who made Eve scream for him. She’s the one who knows how to treat her, how to make her writhe and shudder and clench hard around her fingers. She’s the one who knows how to give her what she really wants.

Eve finds Villanelle’s free hand and takes hold of it, tangling their fingers in the sheets, and that hits her even harder than the way Eve’s voice goes soft and breathy, _Villanelle, oh my god Villanelle…_

Eve comes with Villanelle’s teeth in her neck, shaking and scrambling to stay upright. Her voice breaks, she sounds so broken, so anguished, but she holds onto Villanelle so damn hard, she couldn’t stop if she wanted to. When it’s done, she brings Villanelle’s hand to her mouth and kisses it, and that’s not fair. That’s too much. Villanelle lets her breathe, and then she’s sliding out of her, one hand already halfway under the harness before Eve turns to face her.

“Wait,” she says suddenly.

“ _Wait?_ ” Villanelle looks at her, incredulous.

“Here, let me…”

Eve guides her down onto her back again, and before Villanelle can even wonder what she’s doing, she takes the shaft of the toy into her mouth. With one hand, she moves the base back and forth, looking up at her as she slides the other one underneath the straps of the harness. Villanelle’s eyes go wide, and once again, Eve has her speechless. She has to fight to keep her eyes open, when Eve’s thumb starts to work her clit with purpose, but she has to see this. She _has_ to know this is really happening.

She’s never felt anything like this, but god, is she feeling it now.

It takes almost nothing. She melts in Eve’s hands, collapsing back and sighing out her pleasure as Eve moves the toy inside her. She feels (she _feels!_ ) so good, so real, so fucking _human_ , for one unbelievable moment, her eyes start to water. When she can, she sits up again and looks down at Eve with an expression she knows is probably giving away too much.

“Eve Polastri, the things you do to me,” she mumbles.

Eve just smiles and helps her shimmy out of the harness.

They take a shower together, when Villanelle has dropped the whole setup into the sink, and then even though Eve swore earlier that day she wouldn’t stay the night, she does.

(With the microphone stuck to her chest, the next night, she wonders what Eve is up to. She’s still listening, she knows she’s still listening. Under the covers, both her hands are busy, remembering the feeling of Eve’s fingers, Eve’s tongue. She has to make herself stop talking, when she starts to lose the American accent – she knows better than to think no one else is listening – but she knows Eve can hear her.

She twists sideways under the silk duvet and burns for her, moaning wordlessly into the embroidered pillows, wondering if the microphone is picking up the pounding of her heart.)


End file.
